


Where Everybody Knows Your Name

by Chash



Series: Cheerful [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Apparently getting a crush on the hot dog walker who comes in every morning is a rite of passage for baristas at Grounds. Clarke isn't the first.But if she has her way, she's going to be the one who actually makes it happen.





	Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Two weeks into starting her position at Grounds, an upscale but reasonably priced bakery in her neighborhood, Clarke feels like she's getting the hang of being a barista. She's cute and apparently good at pretending to be pleasant, as well as not really being great at making the drinks yet, so they have her at the register during peak times, and then learning the rest of the stations when the crowds die down a little. It's harder work than any of the summer internships her mother ever hooked her up with, starting earlier and more time on her feet, but she likes it, too. She's not exactly a social butterfly, but she's good at customer service, and she likes both the patrons and her coworkers, for the most part. It is, admittedly, really stereotypical starving artist shit, but she doesn't mind. It feels like a good place to be.

And two weeks in, it gets better, because Maya looks up and says, "Oh, guys, hot dog Bellamy is back!"

Clarke blinks a few times, but she seems to be the only one who's lost. Everyone else is already crowding to the counter to look out the big front windows.

"Hot dogs?"

"No, um--" Maya laughs, gives a subtle little jerk of her head, like she's worried this will be what draws attention, and not everyone obviously staring. "That guy."

There is indeed a guy outside, apparently working hard to get a tangle of excited dogs tied to the lamp post in front of the store. He's wearing a tight blue t-shirt and jeans, a pair of glasses sliding down his nose as he laughs.

"Hot dog Bellamy," Clarke says. 

"His name is Bellamy," says Maya. "He's a dog walker. He usually comes by on his morning walk, but we haven't seen him in a few weeks. So we were missing out on a hot guy _and_ dogs."

No one seems even a little bit embarrassed when Bellamy opens the door and raises his eyebrows at crowd watching him. He really _is_ hot, all messy black hair and broad shoulders. To say nothing of the way his mouth curves into a perfect smirk as his eyes sweep over them.

"You guys miss me?" he asks.

"Just the dogs," says Raven. "What have you got today?"

Bellamy leans one elbow on the wooden counter where the drinks go out, smiling at Raven with a level of charm that should probably be illegal. "Mostly mutts. The big one's a retriever mix, and then the two black and white ones are siblings that are maybe a quarter collie, I think. And then the little one is a corgi/akita."

Monty gives him a bag that Clarke assumes contains a pastry he hasn't ordered yet. She's learning people's orders pretty quickly, but there are still a lot of regulars to keep track of.

"So, where were you?" he asks Bellamy.

"My baby sister started college," he says, the pride in his voice obvious even though she's never met him before. "She went out to California, so we did a road trip. See the country, go to some national parks and monuments. All the dorky stuff she's never going to agree to do with me again now that she's a grown up."

"That's awesome," says Raven. "Usual drink?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Cool. This is Clarke," she says. "She'll ring you up."

The rest of the group has dispersed, going back to stocking or baking or whatever they're supposed to be working on, leaving Clarke at the register mostly alone when Bellamy gets to her.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi."

"When'd you start?"

"Two weeks ago."

"How's it going?"

"Not bad. I haven't burned myself on any of the drink machines yet."

"Congratulations."

She wets her lips. "You know you need to tell me what you got, right? I can't ring you up for the usual for another few days."

"I always feel really bad about that, actually," he admits. "It's a large soy latte and a ham-and-cheese croissant."

"Feel bad about what?" she asks, finding the right buttons on the register app. "Six-fifty-three."

He hands over a credit card. "I know I don't have to order with most of the staff, but I don't like assuming, so I end up either ordering, and someone makes fun of me because they already know what I'm getting, or not ordering and that's the one time the person on register doesn't know what I want, and I feel like an asshole."

She has to laugh. "And what happens if you want to order something other than a large soy latte and a ham-and-cheese croissant?"

"Then I feel like an even bigger asshole."

"I know I'm not an expert, but it sounds like you spend a lot of time feeling like a huge asshole."

"Everyone needs a hobby, right?" He flashes her another smile. "Speaking of which, now I'm feeling like an asshole for holding up the line. Nice to meet you, Clarke. I'll see you--uh, next time we're both in, I guess."

"I'm working tomorrow morning," she offers, and he raises his latte.

"Yeah, probably tomorrow morning, then. Have a good day."

"You too," she echoes, and is glad she's not the only one who watches him untangle his dogs and take off.

So much less embarrassing.

*

"Getting a crush on Bellamy is a rite of passage," Monty says, with a shrug. "Everyone who's interested in guys does it. You check him out, fantasize about running into him outside of work, flirt a little, and then realize he's like that with everyone and move on."

"Yeah, that's how it goes," Raven agrees. "No shame in having a thing for hot dog Bellamy."

"I never said I had a thing for him," Clarke grumbles. 

"No, but you keep looking at the door hoping he's going to show up. Like I said, it's a rite of passage," Monty adds. "No one's judging."

"You know that's not actually comforting, right?" She sighs. "He was just cute. Everyone likes eye candy."

"That's what we're saying, yeah," says Raven. "Enjoy. He's always good eye candy, even when you figure out you're not getting laid."

"You got laid," Monty points out, and Clarke cocks her head at Raven.

"I did get laid," she admits. "It was like--three years ago? After the Finn thing."

Clarke winces. It had been weird, to say the least, to realize that one of her new coworkers was also the other woman in her most disastrous relationship ever, but it hasn't been as awkward as she thought it would be. Neither of them was actually at fault in the whole thing, and remembering how much of an incompetent asshole he'd been had been a good way to bond when she started.

"I'm trying to imagine that," says Clarke. "Did you fuck him in the bathroom or what?"

Raven snorts. "I actually ran into him when I was going off shift. I was in a shitty mood, he asked what was up, bought me a drink, and then we had sex. I thought it would be awkward, but we pretty much just went back to normal."

"So yeah, Raven definitely won the Bellamy game. None of the rest of us have slept with him at all."

Raven rolls her eyes. "He was pretty casual about it. He'd probably sleep with you if you asked too. I was pretty fucked up Finn, so I wasn't really at my best, but I'd still recommend it."

"Nah," says Monty. "Nate's my new customer crush. He's surly and he's got a rainbow flag on his bag. We're going to get married."

"Realistic goals. Head's up, Clarke. He's all yours."

Clarke doesn't let herself jerk up, but just looks over, casually, to see Bellamy tying up his group of dogs. He's wearing a gray t-shirt today, something that looks soft and worn, and he greets Raven and Monty before he gets to Clarke at the register.

"Clarke, right?"

"Hot dog Bellamy," she says, and he laughs.

"I guess I could do worse for nicknames. Do you need the order?"

"Nope. Just the money."

He hands over his card. "I'm just trusting you're not overcharging me."

"It was twenty breakfast sandwiches, right?"

"And a large soy latte."

"Oh right." She flips the iPad around so Bellamy can sign, and he does so and flips it back. "How do you become a dog walker?" she can't help asking. There's no line right now, and she's curious.

"Start in high school, build up a reputation, realize people will pay you a lot to do it and keep doing it." He shrugs. "I'm getting my sister through college with a minimum of debt, so I figure once that's done, I can reassess."

"I never thought dog-walking was that lucrative."

"You need to work for rich people. And it's not just walking. I do some other stuff. Comprehensive dog care."

"Is that what your business cards say?"

"Unfortunately, yeah." She raises her eyebrows, and he gets one out of his wallet. _Bellamy Blake: Comprehensive Dog Care_ is written in bold black letters in the center, and below it is the list of covered duties, including walking, training, boarding, and grooming. "Once I had the brand, I figured I might as well just lean into it."

"Whatever works." She offers him the card back, and he shakes his head. 

"Pass it on to someone with a dog. That's what they're for."

"Thanks. I definitely won't find it in my pocket three days from now and throw it away."

"Of course not." He raises his latte, as is apparently his custom. "Later, Clarke."

"Later."

She studies the card again after he's left, smiling when she sees it has his cell phone number and email listed at the bottom.

It's not much, but it's a start.

*

The reason Monty shouldn't have told Clarke about the Bellamy rite of passage is not, in fact, that she feels like a cliche, even if she does, a bit. The real problem is that Clarke is competitive to a fault, so hearing that everyone else has had a thing for him and failed to upgrade it into a relationship doesn't make her feel as if she's the next in a long line of pining baristas.

Instead, it makes her resolve to be the one to break the pattern. If for no other reason than that the pattern seems to be nothing but making eyes at Bellamy when he's in the store and nothing as productive as actually making a move on him. After all, Raven slept with him without much effort, so it doesn't feel as if it should be some big, impossible thing. It feels stupid to give up before she's even started, like everyone else did. She can totally crack this.

She's off the next two days, and she mostly does real things that she needs to do, like art and laundry and groceries, but also takes some time to check out the website Bellamy has listed on the back of his business card and do some mild social media stalking. The website's out of date and pretty minimal, and he seems to have a twitter account just to say he has one, but that's kind of endearing in its own way. He's kind of hilariously bad at branding.

After that, she takes another half an hour to make a new business card of her own, to be printed on the back of her existing one. It's a good place to start, right? Testing the waters.

"Do you even actually like him?" Lincoln asks, sounding dubious. "Or is this just some sort of demonstration of pride? Proving you can do what no one else could?"

"I do like him," she says. "Not on any profound spiritual level or anything. He's hot and I liked talking to him. I don't need to write a five-hundred word essay about why I'm flirting with someone, do I?"

"Of course not. But this is more effort than you usually put in."

Clarke smiles. "Well, he's really hot."

She goes in on Sunday armed with his business card, only to have Maya inform her that, as a rule, Bellamy's only in on weekday mornings, so she can stop looking for him. It _is_ annoying that everyone knows she's interested and thinks it's kind of funny, but she can't really blame them. After all, this is how it works. The Bellamy effect, or something. 

On Monday, he comes in when there's a line, so Clarke doesn't see him until he actually gets to the register.

"Hi," he says, with a smile.

"Hi, Bellamy."

"Busy morning?"

"Incredibly. You?"

"Could be worse. Can I get a--"

"Large soy latte and a ham-and-cheese croissant?"

His smile is a little sheepish. "Please."

She rings him up. "How are the dogs doing?"

"Not bad. This is a pretty good group." He hands over his card without being asked. "Don't want to hold up the line," he adds.

"I'm sure the line appreciates it. But I actually have something for you."

He looks pleased but also a little bit confused. "Yeah?"

"You inspired me," she says. "I need to rework my brand."

He barks out a laugh when he reads: _Clarke Griffin: Comprehensive Coffee Artist_ , and she can see his eyes scanning over her other skills and the illustrations she added.

"This is pretty classy," he says, frowning when he turns it over and sees her _actual_ business card. "So, you're also an artist?" 

"On the side, yeah."

"Cool." His eyes flick to the line, which is just getting longer, and he ducks his head with a slight flush. "Thanks for the card. I'll see you later."

Monty catches her once the breakfast rush has calmed down, giving her a calculating look. "Are you actually trying to hit on Bellamy?" he asks.

"It sounded like more fun than just assuming he wasn't interested," she says, making it casual. "And better chance of getting laid."

"Wow. Actually acting on feelings instead of pretending they don't exist. Sounds fake, but--"

"I might as well try to get laid, right? Raven did say he had her recommendation."

"She did. Good luck, I guess."

"Thanks for the support." She smiles. "I'll let you know how it works out."

"Business-card flirting is an interesting tactic."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," she says, and goes to the register as the bell over the door chimes.

She's just about finished for the day when her phone buzzes with a text from a vaguely familiar number.

 **Unknown** : Do you actually do web design, or is your whole business card a joke?  
By the way, this is Bellamy and that text looked a lot less asshole-ish before I sent it  
Autocorrect also really didn't like asshole-ish as a word  
Hi

 **Me** : You really worry a lot about how other people perceive you

 **Bellamy** : It keeps me up at night  
That was supposed to be a joke but sometimes it does  
Anyway  
Web design

 **Me** : Web design  
That is one of the ways I use art to make actual money  
The artist side is all legit  
Actually so's the coffee side  
I can do all those things

 **Bellamy** : Steaming and pouring milk?  
Impressive

 **Me** : I'm a pro  
Do you need web design or is this just general curiosity?

 **Bellamy** : I've been told my website could use some punching up  
Professional help seems expensive  
I'm hoping you'll give me some kind of discount  
Shit, that sounds sketchy  
I'm not expecting free labor, I promise

 **Me** : When are you done with your dog-walking stuff?

 **Bellamy** : It depends on the day  
And what you mean by done  
I'm flexible  
Why?

 **Me** : I'm done with work at three tomorrow  
If you want to meet up and talk about web design

 **Bellamy** : You don't mind?

 **Me** : I assume you'll eventually pay me

 **Bellamy** : That's the idea  
I can meet you at Grounds at three

 **Me** : And I assume I'll see you in the morning too

 **Bellamy** : Safe bet  
Thanks, Clarke

 **Me** : Again, you're paying me  
It's really no problem

She wants to downplay it, but as soon as she gets home, she flops onto Lincoln's bed, grinning. He's working on a piece, so he doesn't look away, but he does ask, "Good day?"

"I'm totally going to make out with that guy."

"Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

"That didn't sound convincing at all."

"I'm still not sold on your spite-seducing a customer."

"I like him," she admits, soft. "Spite's just a bonus."

He does look over at that, looking her up and down, as if he's assessing the truth of her statement. It _is_ true, so she's not worried.

"It's been a while since you had a crush," he finally tells her. "I wasn't really expecting it to happen again."

"You thought I was just done with feelings?"

"That is what you said after you and Lexa broke up."

He's not wrong, of course, which is the problem with having friends. They remember things like the last time you got your heart broken.

"I'm glad you're changing your mind," he adds, his voice warm, and Clarke feels a strange lurch in her stomach, something between warmth and nausea. 

Possibility, probably.

"Me too. But it might be nothing."

"It might not happen," Lincoln corrects. "But it's obviously not nothing."

"Shut up," she says, without heat. 

"You like him. Too late to take that back."

She closes her eyes, feels herself smiling. "Yeah. Way too late."

*

Bellamy stops by in the morning as usual, but Clarke is trying to get better at the drink station, so all she ends up doing is calling his latte, and she hears his quick, "Thanks, Clarke!" on her way back to the espresso machine.

But he shows up at three, when it's just Clarke, Monty, and Maya until Jasper shows up to relieve her, and leans against the counter, smiling at her. His smile remains one of the most overwhelming things she's ever seen.

"Hey. Do I offer to buy you a coffee, or is that weird? Do you get free coffee? Am I just wasting my money buying you coffee?"

"I'll get my own," she says, smiling. "Do you want anything?"

"Large iced soy latte?"

"Okay. It'll be done in a sec. On me," she adds, when he pulls out his wallet. "You already paid for one drink today, and I get a free one I'm not using anyway."

"Huh. Uh--thanks, then," he says, smiling. "Appreciated. I'll just go--" He jerks his head to a table, and Clarke nods.

"I'll bring the drinks."

Monty and Maya corner her while she's making the latte. "Do you actually have a date with hot dog Bellamy?" Maya demands. "How did you get a date with hot dog Bellamy?"

"She's been business-card flirting with him," Monty explains. "I didn't think it was going to work, but--wow. He's offering to buy you coffee. You get it free so it's an empty gesture, but still."

"I'm supposed to help him with his website," says Clarke. "It's not exactly high romance."

"It's farther than anyone else ever got." Maya looks at Monty. "I guess we could have actually tried to hit on him."

"I tried!" says Monty. "One time I was, like, nice t-shirt. He said thanks."

"Yeah, you're a casanova," says Maya.

Clarke finishes up the drinks and clocks out, tossing a smile over her shoulder. "It's not a date," she says. "But I'm working on it."

Bellamy's bent over his phone, his full attention on it, and he jumps when Clarke puts the drink down in front of him.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey. Thanks for meeting me. We don't have to stay here," he adds. "I was just waiting for you to get off shift. I actually need to go check on some dogs anyway. If that's cool."

"So you're saying if I hang out with you, I can play with dogs?"

"That's one of the perks of hanging out with me, yeah."

"Lead the way."

The weather is still warm in early fall, and it's nice, walking with Bellamy. He's a few inches taller than she is, a good height, easy to fall into step with.

She does have a good feeling about this.

"So, you need a new website?" she prompts, when he just sips his drink.

"I've been told it could use a little more pizzazz," he says.

"Pizzazz?"

"My client's word. He gave me the name of some graphic design firm he uses and it was way too much, so I figured I'd ask you instead. If nothing else, I'm hoping you can tell me if they're asking a fair price and I'm the one who's being unreasonable."

"It really depends on what you want."

"Yeah, I have no fucking clue."

Clarke worries her lip. "How much do you want to spend?"

She's expecting _as little as possible_ , so she's pleasantly surprised when he gives her a decent maximum budget and a rundown of priorities, things he'd definitely like to get done and things he can live with doing later. Apparently he's been doing _research_ , and it's cute.

It's even cuter because he's planning to pay her. 

"A lot of the dogs I check on throughout the day. Two full walks and then I come by a couple times for bathroom breaks."

The dog is mid-sized and very excited to see them; Bellamy kneels down to let it smell him first, murmuring quiet words to try to calm it down. Once it has, he turns to Clarke.

"You want to say hi?"

Dogs have always been something she likes in theory, not because she has anything against them, but just because she's never had any of her own, so they're largely a mystery to her. They always seem cute, just--she doesn't know how they work.

She kneels down next to Bellamy and extends her hand like he did, and the dog gives her a curious sniff.

"This is Heidi," he says. "I've been taking care of her for about four years now. She's friendly."

"Hi, Heidi."

The dog licks her hand happily, and Clarke feels herself smiling.

"She likes ear-rubs too," Bellamy tells her, and Clarke gives it a try, watches with some fascination as she curls her head into the affection, eyes closed in bliss. She would like to get better with dogs. They seem fun.

The rest of the afternoon goes along those lines. Bellamy introduces her to dogs, checks their food and water, takes them outside so they can relieve themselves, and chats easily with Clarke first about the website and then about his life, and her life. To her relief, she still likes him, and they really do get along well. It's nice that she's not going to have to figure out if she's spiteful enough to try to seduce a guy she doesn't even like to prove that she can. 

It's also a little nice that she has that excuse to do it. That she can tell everyone but Lincoln she's just proving a point. 

Well, everyone but Lincoln and Bellamy. She can tell Bellamy how much she likes him, if it comes up.

"Where do you live?" he asks, once they've finished with his last dog of the day. He's got his hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot, and Clarke can't help smiling.

"Let me guess, you want to offer to walk me home but don't want to be weird."

His mouth tugs up in a smile. "That obvious?"

"It's cute," she says, and to her relief, he laughs, ducking his head down 

"At least I'm doing something right."

"I live on West Third Street," she says. "If you want to walk me home."

"I really do."

She takes his hand after about a block, and he doesn't miss a beat in the story he's telling her, just squeezes her fingers and smiles. And when they get to her place, he's the one to stop and catch her eye, but she's the one to tug him down, tangling her hand in his hair for a kiss.

"Sorry, does that make me an asshole?" she teases, and he laughs and kisses her again.

"You do seem like kind of an asshole, honestly."

"Yeah, definitely. But I don't think you mind."

"No," he agrees. "I'm good."

"So, do you want to come upstairs and work on web design?"

He opens and closes his mouth. "I was going to ask if that was a euphemism, but I realized I don't actually care. Either way, yes. I'd love to."

"Cool," she says, and it as it turns out they do some web design _and_ go to her room to make out, and when she finally sends him home, Lincoln looks as smug as she's ever seen him.

She can't bring herself to care even a little.

*

"If you didn't bring a bunch of dogs, we don't actually want you here," Clarke hears Raven say the next morning, and she looks up from arranging the pastries to see Bellamy smiling a little nervously. "We just like you for the dogs."

"I'm getting the dogs after this. I wanted to beat the morning rush," he says, and Raven rolls her eyes.

But he's already coming down to where Clarke's manning the register, a faint flush on his cheeks suggesting that he's actually somehow worried she doesn't want to see him.

He's still stupidly cute.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi." And then, because she can't help teasing him a little, "You know, we have a lot of customers, I can't actually remember everyone's orders, so you're going to need to--"

"Jesus Christ, you're such a fucking asshole," he says, laughing, and she leans across the counter to press her lips to his. 

"The drink's on the house," she says. "But bring the dogs with you next time."

"If I knew all I had to do to get free stuff was date one of the baristas, I would have tried it earlier."

"You had your pick," Clarke says. "Apparently having a thing for you is a rite of passage. We've all done it."

"Huh. So you're saying I've got options," he teases.

"Not if you want web design too."

"Yeah, that's one of my big relationship necessities. I'd better keep dating you." Raven gives him his croissant and drink, and he smiles. "Thanks. Are you done at three again?"

"Yeah. But you only get one comped drink a day."

"I'll live. See you at three?"

"Yeah." She leans across the counter to kiss him again. "Have a good day at work."

"You too."

Monty's shift starts at eleven, and Raven greets him with, "Clarke's fucking hot dog Bellamy."

"I haven't actually fucked him yet. The word you're looking for is _dating_."

"How?"

"I asked," she says.

"Wow. I can't believe that worked."

Her smile is a little stupid, and they're definitely going to call her out on that. But she'll live. "Yeah," she says. "Me neither."


End file.
